Hello all you wonderful people out there. Have any of you read my previous article on how wonderful it is to fly from point A to point B? Did you think, “Is this woman out of her mind? Does anybody really enjoy going to the airport three hours before flight departure? Does anybody really think flying for eight or more hours is fun?”.
Upon rereading my article I, too, actually began to wonder about my sanity. Then it came to me: flying is kind of like giving birth to a baby. We suffer excruciating pain; we scream; we hate what’s happening; we say, “Never again”. Then that new born baby in our arms wipes away all memory of what preceded its birth. Call it nature’s way of looking after us. A year later, there we are again, going through the same thing.
I admit it. I, too, hate getting up in the middle of the night to get to the airport. So what makes it all so endurable? I guess the answer to that is – for one thing – the service before, during, and after the flight. By the time the airplane lands my mind is on my immediate destination. All the inconveniences are behind me. I thank the crew from the bottom of my heart for making the uncomfortable comfortable, the unbearable bearable.
Finally, just knowing that someone is waiting for me gives me a warm feeling. Family members and friends who have taken the time to be there for me are the same as that little baby in my arms. They make it all worthwhile. The discomforts of the trip seem to evaporate into thin air. Make love, not war!!!